


You're a good sign

by retts



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Fluff, I'm really just looking for tags, Jealousy, Locker Room Sex, M/M, Meet the Family, One True Pairing, Romance, SO MUCH FLUFF, Their Love Is So, but they're all just minor appearances really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-27
Updated: 2013-03-27
Packaged: 2017-12-06 16:14:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/737635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/retts/pseuds/retts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>‘Anyway, thank you so much for your help. You didn’t have to. You could have just walked on by like everyone else.’</p><p>Did that make Zayn sound bitter? Perhaps a tiny bit but the boy just laughed, a bright sound that made people look at them even more weirdly, still on their knees and talking like they weren’t blocking the way.</p><p>‘I couldn’t,’ said the boy honestly, pushing his fringe back, revealing ears that were pink at the tips.</p><p>‘Then you’re the nice one,’ said Zayn. If niceness had a face, Zayn was probably looking at it. He stuck out his hand suddenly, startling the other boy. ‘Er, I’m Zayn, by the way. Zayn Malik.’</p><p>The smile Zayn received sort of took his breath away.</p><p>‘Liam Payne. It’s very nice to meet you, Zayn.’</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Or Liam and Zayn in four different seasons + one more because life is basically a circle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're a good sign

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this chilling in my laptop for ages and I wasn't even going to finish it, but then I did, and it took me a stupidly long time. This probably sucks, too.
> 
> Except for autumn and winter, the other seasons happen in different years.

 

The shouting woke Zayn up. His foot jerked forward and hit something solid, sending an ache through the muscles. He cursed and dragged a palm down his face. The smell of coffee and the loud chatter of voices made him look around, eyebrows raised because apparently he’d fallen asleep in the coffee shop. Zayn grimaced and discreetly wiped the drool from the corner of his mouth. At least no one was paying attention to him (not that he was the first uni student to nose-dive into his book in a cafe), all eyes riveted to the customer yelling and pointing his finger at the poor terrified bloke on the other side of the counter. 

‘ - taking too long and I’m late for my meeting, do you know how hard it is to secure a deal with this firm whilst you just stand there pouring coffee in a bloody cup!’

‘Git,’ muttered Zayn in second-hand embarrassment, glancing away. He caught the eye of the girl sitting in the next table and shared a sarcastic “check out the wanker” smile. The manager came out, trying to diffuse the situation, and Zayn looked at his watch. Twenty past one. He still had forty minutes before his last class of the day, just enough time for a quick stop at the library.

Zayn drained the rest of his coffee, which had turned cold from his longish nap, and tugged on his coat, gloves, scarf and beanie. He gathered the books spread out on his table and crammed as many as he could into his satchel before pulling the strap sideways over his head, grunting at the weight of it. The three remaining books, along with his portfolio, were balanced in his arms. _Yeah, you don’t look like a right swot, not at all_ , Zayn thought to himself as he made his way to the door. Zayn couldn’t even remember when he’d last gone to a party, or even just to the pub for a quiet drink.

Shoving the door open with his shoulder, Zayn paused to let a woman and her little boy pass through before stepping out onto the street. Autumn was in full swing, frost creeping up on buildings and sidewalks, the smell of apples and cinnamon in the air, and trees streaked with red and gold hues. It was Zayn’s favourite time of the year, not only because everything was somehow softly beautiful, but since he had an excuse to not shave, wear thick oversized jumpers, and leave his hair uncombed under his hat.

He took a moment to breathe in deeply, enjoying the brisk air, when somebody bumped into him heavily from behind. Zayn yelped as he lost balance and fell on his knees, palms scraping on the pavement. Even with gloves on, it still hurt.

His satchel flew open, his books slipping free and pens rolling away from where they were tucked in the inside pockets.

‘Stop loitering,’ a voice barked above him. ‘Fucking kids these days. The whole country’s going to the dogs.’

Zayn’s head snapped up. It was the same suited business man who’d been screaming at the coffee boy. He sneered at Zayn and marched away, mobile pressed to his ear. Zayn couldn’t help but gape at the man’s retreating back before he blinked, jumped up to his feet, and flipped him off. It didn’t really make him feel better, though.

‘Fuck,’ Zayn said and scrubbed at his face. He looked down at his scattered things. The other pedestrians ignored him, or stared pointedly at the mess on the ground and then at Zayn. ‘Fucking _hell_.’

Resigned, Zayn knelt down and began scooping up his rainbow of pens.

‘What a prick,’ a voice said from above Zayn just as he was tucking his pens back in his bag. A hand reached for one of the books hanging off the kerb and handed it to Zayn. The brown-haired boy gave him a sympathetic smile. ‘You alright, mate?’

Zayn blinked slowly. _Oh_. Then, cheeks turning pink, Zayn grabbed the book and put it on top of the one by his knees. ‘Thanks,’ he said with a nod of his head, ‘for saying out loud what I was thinking. Makes me feel loads better. Don’t know why I didn’t just shout it after him, really.’

‘Maybe you’re too nice for that,’ said the other boy, smile widening. ‘Here, let me help you.’

Zayn shrugged. ‘Nah, didn’t want him to sue me or whatever. He looked the sort to do that, you know?’

‘I think his complaint won’t hold up. He was the one who knocked you over in the first place.’

‘Are you a law student?’ asked Zayn, reaching for the last book in front of him at the same time the other boy did. Their knuckles brushed lightly and Zayn once again went _oh_ in his head.

The boy grinned, blushing. ‘No. Chemistry. Not smart or devious enough for law.’ His fingers curled round the book and his brown eyes scanned the cover. ‘Art?’ 

‘Yeah,’ said Zayn. ‘Like, painting and watercolour mostly, but sometimes I also do abstract when the mood strikes. I’m into photography as well, so. Um.’ He bit down on his lower lip, suddenly embarrassed because there was no way this boy with his wide shoulders and attractive face would be interested in hearing about Zayn’s art. It was already nice of him to help Zayn; no need to bore him as well. ‘Anyway, thank you so much for your help. You didn’t have to. You could have just walked on by like everyone else.’

Did that make Zayn sound bitter? Perhaps a tiny bit but the boy just laughed, a bright sound that made people look at them even more weirdly, still on their knees and talking like they weren’t blocking the way.

‘I couldn’t,’ said the boy honestly, pushing his fringe back, revealing ears that were pink at the tips.

‘Then you’re the nice one,’ said Zayn. If niceness had a face, Zayn was probably looking at it. He stuck out his hand suddenly, startling the other boy. ‘Er, I’m Zayn, by the way. Zayn Malik.’

The smile Zayn received sort of took his breath away.

‘Liam Payne. It’s very nice to meet you, Zayn.’

Their hands shook, then lingered, before pulling back. Zayn caught a glimpse of Liam’s watch (worn over the sleeve of his coat) and his eyes widened. ‘Shit, is that the time? I’m going to be late!’

Zayn jumped to his feet and slipped his satchel over his head. He scooped up the books and the pile teetered unsteadily.

‘Whoa,’ said Liam, steadying it with his palm, ‘give me some of those. You’ll definitely drop them again if you’re in such a hurry.’

 _Yeah, he’s kind of perfect_ , a voice in the back of Zayn’s head whispered. ‘You don’t have to, Liam. I’m just headed to the bus stop over there.’

‘Then I’ll carry some of them until the bus stop. It’s no problem, yeah?’ He reached for the three books on top and lifted an eyebrow in amusement. ‘Are you a walking library too, by any chance?’

Where had Liam Payne been hiding for the last nineteen years of Zayn’s life? Zayn closed his mouth because gaping was really unattractive on him (which only reminded him about his autumn look and just _no_. He couldn’t think about how scruffy he was right then).

‘I’m actually returning these to the library before my next class, but since I’m already late, I reckon I’ll do it after.’ Zayn started walking towards the bus stop at the end of the street, Liam falling into step beside him. They were roughly the same height and build, though Liam was broader round the shoulders and hips. He didn’t wear a hat and Zayn could see how Liam’s brown hair was sort of curly and messy, but in a very fetching way. This was all Zayn could think about for some reason as he slowed down his steps, Liam automatically mimicking him. A thrill went through Zayn. Fuck class anyway.

Liam huffed out a laugh. ‘Overdue books, huh?’

‘No!’ Zayn rolled his eyes because why was he even lying? ‘Well, okay, yes, they are. I forgot to return them. I kept meaning to but do you know how scary the library folks at my uni are? They will glare at you and hide the books you really need just because you were a bit late in returning a few books. Like, a month isn’t all that long, yeah?’

Liam snickered and tilted his head to look at Zayn. ‘I understand your pain, mate. I’m a Chemistry major, which means I’m either in the lab blowing stuff up or in the library reading about blowing stuff up. I’ve made friends with the people at my library, though. I mean, you gotta be friends with them, right, if you’re there every day smelling like sulphur, so they’d feel bad about kicking you out and not do it.’

‘Downplaying your shrewdness behind those big brown eyes, are you? Clever, that,’ Zayn teased, knocking his shoulder against Liam’s. It was a presumptuous move and Zayn cleared his throat awkwardly, blush darkening on his cheeks. ‘So Chemistry, that’s impressive,’ he said, changing the subject just as they reached the queue.

Smiling, Liam gave a small shrug. ‘I enjoy it. Nothing quite like mixing chemicals in a small container to create an epic reaction.’

‘Have you ever caused an explosion before?’ asked Zayn curiously. The woman in front of them shot Zayn a cautious look.

‘Loads of times,’ said Liam cheerfully. ‘I might have also made friends with the really nice blokes at the fire department.’

Zayn laughed, partly because the woman was now looking outright alarmed and inching forward to put distance between them. Liam smiled at him, little crinkles appearing at the corners of his brown eyes, and Zayn felt much too warm in his coat all of a sudden. Zayn didn’t enjoy social interaction all that much, preferring to be alone with his sketches spread over his lap, which was why he had few friends and even less boyfriends. Just a few casual hook-ups now and then but nothing serious. Sometimes Zayn even convinced himself that he chose to be alone, instead of accepting the very depressing fact that nobody stuck around long enough because Zayn was a right moody twat at the best of times.

Looking at Liam, though, with his kind brown eyes and sweet smile, holding Zayn’s books like they hadn’t just literally met fifteen minutes ago, Zayn was overwhelmed with the urge to know him, either as a friend or something more. It was easy talking to Liam and that never happened to Zayn.

‘Are you going to make your class?’ asked Liam worriedly, a knot appearing between his eyebrows. He craned his neck to peer down at the street.

Zayn decided that Liam was a dark gold colour, that particular shade of honey that looked just as sweet, thick, and warm as it tasted. He knew which of his coloured pencils to use to get the exact shade.

‘Probably,’ Zayn answered absently, already picturing how comforting his sketch of Liam would be, all browns, reds, gold, and a hint of pink for his blush. He was like autumn, but with all the brightness of spring.

_What the fuck am I thinking?_

‘Good ‘cause the bus is here,’ said Liam with a quick grin at Zayn. ‘You ought to get your card out before I give you these books back.’

‘Right, good idea.’ Zayn made an odd wriggling motion to try and get his wallet from his back pocket. Liam laughed and took the books from Zayn’s arms. Zayn smiled sheepishly and plucked his card from his wallet.

The queue started moving along and Liam patiently waited at the kerb for Zayn to swipe his card and slip it into his front pocket before handing him all of his books back.

Zayn stared down at Liam, stalling. ‘Thank you,’ he said, infusing the two words with as much gratitude as possible because Zayn had too much experience with people who didn’t give a damn about anybody else.

Liam bit his bottom lip and looked like he wanted to say something. Zayn mentally yelled at him to spit whatever it was out. The bloke behind Liam gave a rather pointed cough. Liam sighed and waved his hand at Zayn. ‘Your welcome, Zayn. See you around, yeah?’ With one last smile at him, Liam moved out of the queue, hands buried in his coat pockets.

‘Excuse me,’ the same bloke said impatiently, ‘but you’re blocking the way, mate.’

Zayn looked at the queue of waiting passengers, staring at him like he was thick as shit. Then Zayn bolted into the bus, dumped his books on the empty seat near the back, and dragged up the window.

He didn’t stop to second-guess himself as he poked his head out and shouted, ‘Hey Liam!’

Luckily, Liam wasn’t too far away to hear him. He looked over his shoulder and backtracked a few steps, then spun around to give Zayn a confused smile that was really fucking adorable. ‘Yeah?’

‘Go out with me. For a coffee or whatever, I don’t care; I just feel like I ought to know you!’ Zayn blurted out, raising his voice to be heard. He kept his gaze on Liam, on how Liam’s eyes widened in shock before narrowing as a brilliant smile lit up his face. Zayn’s heart skipped a beat and he thought _oh_ for the third time.

‘Yes, yeah, of course,’ Liam said, nodding repeatedly as his cheeks glowed even brighter. The bus started to move away from the kerb. Liam laughed and jogged forward, cupping a hand around his mouth and saying, ‘I feel the same way too, Zayn! It’s weird!’

Zayn’s fingers gripped the edge of the window tightly. ‘Saturday, then? Here at the bus stop. 4pm!’

Liam stopped following and gave him a thumbs up in reply, then waved.

Zayn watched him for a bit until the bus turned a corner. He closed the widow and sank down on his seat, cheeks fiercely red, heart thumping against his ribcage. Zayn was pretty sure he was grinning like an idiot but it was hard to care. What he’d done was both ridiculous and brave; something Zayn usually tried his best to avoid. It was worth the leap out of his comfort zone, though, even if he was definitely late for class.

A familiar prickle started up behind Zayn’s neck, which only happened when people were judging him. He didn’t look up, didn’t want anything to dampen the happy, effervescent feeling in his chest. Instead he grabbed his sketch pad from his satchel, rummaged for his pencils, and spent the ten minute bus ride trying to perfect the shade of Liam’s eyes.

 

 

 

 

‘ - snow has come to England, folks. The trains have come to a screeching halt, wrong sort of snow, I reckon. Ha, ha. It’s just not at home, though. Parts of France, Germany, and even Norway - snow in Norway! Imagine that - have also been blanketed. A possible 12 inches and still rising - and you’ve no idea how badly I want to make some smarmy comment here but my boss is glaring at me. The joys of hosting a morning radio show - jokes aside, I absolutely love my brilliant, fantastic, lovely job. Let me give you some advice, my darling listeners: stay indoors unless you want to freeze your bollocks off. Forecasts show it’s going to be a white, white and bloody freezing Christmas. What do you reckon? Shall I sing the remix for your pleasure? And what an _overwhelming_ response - for me to shut up. My own listeners hate me! Well, make lemonade from lemons, they always say, though I do prefer a shot of Tequila! This is Louis Tomlinson wishing you a good morning because it will be for the next two hours. Go on, check the radiator, enjoy a hot cuppa, and _dream of a white Christmas_ – ’

 

 

 

 

 _It’s depressing as hell to spend Christmas alone_ , Zayn thought as he flicked through the television channels, not really paying attention. He wasn’t usually keen on Christmas, though his parents had let him and his sisters exchange presents and decorate the tree growing up. The Christmas sold to kids these days had nothing to do with religion at all. 

But Zayn had left Santa Claus and candy canes and singing drunken renditions of Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer back in Bradford. Christmas in London usually meant going back home and being embarrassed by _those_ memories when his parents insisted on bringing them up. Not to mention being bombarded by heart-warming comments such as ‘Dear, you’re such a lovely boy, I don’t know why you insist on being alone’ and ‘Are you still single, Zayn? God, that’s sad’ and his personal favourite, ‘I know this girl who would be perfect for you – what, Tricia? The boy has to keep his options open!’

His family had all but demanded he bring his boyfriend home with him but Zayn wasn’t stupid enough to do that so this year he’d decided to stay in London, feeling excited about the holiday in a way he hadn’t been since he was nine years old. _Look how well that’s turned out_ , Zayn thought with a pout. He was neither whining about how cold it was (despite his radiator working just fine) so that Liam would pull him up on his lap nor engaging in spirited holiday sex on every horizontal and vertical surface of his flat.

Zayn sighed and placed his chin on top of his knees. He was curled up on his side on the sofa, duvet spread over his legs, wearing loose pyjama bottoms and Liam’s oversized red jumper. It was his favourite and Zayn kept nicking it from Liam’s wardrobe until Liam had finally given it to him with a roll of his eyes. Zayn had refused, arguing that its value would dramatically decrease if it was no longer Liam’s. Obviously.

(‘I don’t want it if it’s not yours, Li,’ Zayn explained with all the logic of a chronic jumper thief.

‘But you wear it so much that it practically belongs to you,’ Liam said, pouting in exasperation.

Zayn smiled and crawled on top of Liam’s body, the jumper in question slipping off one shoulder and revealing a collarbone all marked up from their last enthusiastic romp. Liam was immediately distracted, hands sliding underneath the pullover to thumb over Zayn’s hips.

‘Exactly, Liam. Technically it’s still your jumper, but when I borrow – ’

‘ - steal, Zayn!’

‘ - _borrow_ it, then metaphorically, the jumper, and therefore you, as the owner, become _mine_.’ Zayn planted a brief kiss on Liam’s lips, except Liam tilted his chin up and kept him in place with his teeth and tongue for a few long minutes.

Liam’s hands scratched up the sides of Zayn’s torso. ‘You’re kind of mad, have you noticed?’

Zayn buried his fingers in Liam’s hair where they liked to be. ‘Hey, you’re the one dating the madman.’

‘Had to, or else the idiot would have jumped out of the bus and chased after me.’

‘Shut up, Li.’)

Zayn dropped the remote on the floor after settling on a romantic film just to torture himself. His right hand was twisted in the soft fabric of the pullover. It still carried the spicy hint of Liam’s cologne and Zayn tugged the collar up to his nose to chase after the smell. It was kind of pathetic, but Zayn didn’t give a fuck. He glared at the blonde actress who was crying prettily and throwing herself into the arms of the man she loved as the sky lit up with fireworks and the snow fell gently around them.

‘Bitch,’ mumbled Zayn sullenly. He reached for his mobile lying by his head and brought it in front of his face. No new messages. Zayn scowled and opened a blank message.

_To: Liam_

_u better be alive Liam or I’m kicking ur arse. text back u idiot. im getting worried  xx_

 

He tried ringing Liam’s phone but it went to voicemail, just like the last eight times he’d called. Making a frustrated noise, Zayn coiled into a tighter call, mobile still clutched in his fist. He glanced out the window. It was still snowing heavily, the sliver of sky he could see from his position as dark as it had been this morning. Zayn hadn’t even risked the trip to Nando’s in case he would be caught out in the storm. _Bloody snow_ , thought Zayn, eyes falling closed with a sigh.

 

 

He wasn’t sure what woke him up, but Zayn was suddenly blinking up at the ceiling. His head felt fuzzy and Zayn was rubbing at one eye, his other hand tugging the duvet over his head, when the murmur of voices broke through his sleepy daze, followed by the soft click of the door unlocking. Zayn’s door.

He flung the duvet off him and stumbled on socked feet towards the front door as it opened, revealing a snow-dusted Liam. Liam turned around at the sound of footsteps, flushed face already breaking into a smile, just in time for Zayn to barrel into him.

Liam grunted, taking a step back from the collision, and Zayn hugged him tightly, face buried in the crook of Liam’s neck.

‘Hi,’ Liam said into Zayn’s hair.

‘Hi,’ Zayn mumbled, squeezing his arms tighter round Liam’s shoulders. ‘Why are you wet?’

Liam chuckled and Zayn sighed when he felt a kiss on his forehead. ‘In case you hadn’t noticed, babe, it’s snowing something fierce outside.’

‘Of course I’d noticed. I thought you were stranded.’ Zayn pulled back but still kept his arms locked round his boyfriend. He tried to look disapproving but he couldn’t stop the smile stretching his cheeks. ‘You didn’t reply to any of my texts.’

Liam made a face. ‘My phone died at the station.’

‘How did you – ’                                                  

‘Later, yeah?’ said Liam, disentangling himself from Zayn but reaching down to clasp their hands together after removing his sodden gloves. It was then Zayn noticed Liam was carrying a takeaway bag and that Niall was stood a few feet away, watching them with amusement.

Niall grinned at Zayn and nodded in greeting. ‘Hey, man, Happy Christmas, yeah?’

Zayn smiled. ‘You too, Niall. You and Harry alright?’

‘We’re brilliant. Haz is sleeping off the effects of an early Christmas present.’ Niall winked at them. ‘Though I reckon you two will be plenty knackered later too, huh?’ He turned to Liam. ‘This one’s been pining like an entire forest of Christmas trees the entire time you were away, mate.’

Zayn huffed. ‘How would you know that?’ he asked, even if it was true.

‘Don’t need to see it to know, Zayn. Also, Harry might’ve heard you shouting abuse whilst _Love Actually_ was playing on the telly last night.’

‘Harry is a bloody liar,’ said Zayn instantly.

Liam laughed and kissed Zayn’s blushing cheek. ‘He got you there, babe.’

Zayn felt Liam shiver and frowned at him. ‘Come on, let’s get you out of those wet clothes, Li. Don’t want you to get ill on Christmas.’

‘Sure,’ Niall snorted. He turned towards his own front door. ‘See you, guys, and have a good Christmas. We ought to have dinner sometimes.’

Zayn pushed Liam inside the flat and nudged the door closed. Zayn took the plastic bag from him and peered inside. Takeaway from Nando’s. A smile quirked up the corners of his lips. He set it down on the coffee table and turned to watch Liam toe off his boots with a grimace. He dropped his rucksack on the floor.

‘Go on, change, you look like a drowned cat. I’ll make you a cup of tea,’ said Zayn.

Liam nodded and made his way to the bedroom. Zayn went to the kitchenette and filled the kettle for Liam’s tea, humming a cheesy Christmas song under his breath. It would be worrying how Liam could easily affect his mood if Zayn wasn’t stupidly in love with him.

The _let your heart be glad_ cut off abruptly as Zayn stared down at the two empty mugs on the counter. He was in love with Liam. It felt perfect, natural, but Zayn was still stunned. His heart beat frantically and Zayn raked his hands through his hair. He couldn’t deny what he felt but to fall in love so fast was a little unsettling. They’d only been dating for a little over two months but Zayn couldn’t remember the last time he was so happy. He’d never felt this way before but then again, there was no one in the world quite like Liam. Zayn was both terrified and exhilarated at the discovery, and normally if even the slightest hint of feelings were involved, he’d be running in the opposite direction. This time Zayn only wanted to kiss Liam until he forgot his name and hold on to him so he’ll never go away.

The kettle whistled, breaking Zayn out of his thoughts. He tossed the teabags into the mugs before pouring hot water over them, then the milk. Sugar for him, none for Liam. The familiar motions soothed him and a few minutes later, he relaxed completely when he felt arms circling round his waist from behind and a chin hooking over his right shoulder. He caught a whiff of the vanilla and cinnamon body scrub Liam used, the one Zayn had automatically tossed into his trolley during his last shopping trip to Tesco two weeks ago. Zayn should have had a hunch then, at least.

‘Nice shower?’ asked Zayn.

‘Hmm. I’m not going to get frostbite, at least, though I still can’t feel my toes.’

‘Did you walk in the snow?’ Zayn meant it as a joke but Liam only puffed out a breath into the side of Zayn’s neck. ‘Liam, you _didn’t_.’

‘There were no buses, Zayn! And cabs!’

Zayn turned around in Liam’s embrace and glared at the other boy. ‘It’s because there is a _snowstorm_ , you daft git!’

Liam widened his eyes and stuck out his lower lip. With his hair wet and sticking up in every direction, cheeks pink from his hot bath, the look was very effective.

Then Liam tipped his head down and nudged at Zayn’s nose with his. ‘I wanted to come home to you, Zayn.’

‘I hate you,’ Zayn gave in with a groan (but actually meaning the complete opposite) and leant back against the counter. ‘Grab the mugs and let’s eat and you can tell me exactly how you got back to London from Liverpool in this weather.’

Liam grinned and cupped Zayn’s face with both hands. ‘Missed you,’ he murmured, staring intently at him.

‘Me too,’ Zayn said with a soft sigh.

After spending ten minutes in a long, drawn-out snog that had Zayn arching into him because five days without Liam was really too fucking long, Liam pulled away with one last nip on his bottom lip and said, ‘Let’s eat, I’m starving.’

Zayn rolled his eyes and pinched Liam’s side. ‘You fucking tease,’ he said.

Liam just made a kissy face at him and took the mugs off the counter. They settled down on the sofa, facing each other with their legs crossed and knees touching. Liam handed Zayn his Peri-Peri chicken, took a sip of tea, and told Zayn his story: how his train was stranded in Birmingham with his mobile dead, and, as Liam was looking for an empty phone booth to ring Zayn, he came across a bloke who didn’t know how to change the flat tyre of his car. Liam offered his help and since the guy was heading to London anyway, bad weather be damned, he gave Liam a lift. He was dropped off at Southwark and Liam walked in the bitter cold, stopped by a Nando’s that was still somehow open, and finally arrived at Zayn’s flat in Lambeth at a quarter past six.

‘And yeah,’ said Liam after swallowing his mouthful of Pitta, ‘after Ruth kicked me out because her boyfriend came back - very rude of her, since I had to spend five days listening to her moan and watching her go through a bottle of Hershey’s like it was Coke - I decided to surprise you by coming home on Christmas despite, you know, the storm. I thought I wouldn’t make it but I did.’

Zayn blinked at him. He didn’t even know where to begin. He put away his empty container on the coffee table and then smacked Liam’s knee with his palm. ‘You bloody idiot, do you know what could have happened to you? You could have been murdered by the random stranger whose car you willingly got into! You could’ve slid off the icy road and crashed! You could have literally frozen to death whilst walking from fucking Southwark! _Liam!’_

Liam just shrugged. ‘None of those things happened, Zayn. I’m here, safe and sound. See?’ He had the nerve to spread his arms wide.

Zayn shook his head and dug his fingertips into his closed eyes with a groan. ‘Christ, you are fucking ridiculous, Li. Seriously. You’re so lucky nothing happened to you. I’m going to have nightmares about this, you twat.’

Liam gently tugged Zayn’s hands away from his face. ‘You keep on calling me the most awful names but I know you’re pleased that I’m here.’

‘Of course I am,’ Zayn snapped. ‘I’m just upset about how you got here.’

Liam shook his head and gave him a fond look. ‘Come cuddle with me, Zayn. I’m still cold.’

‘S’your fault,’ muttered Zayn even as he obediently tucked himself in between Liam’s legs. He leant back against Liam’s chest and covered the both of them with the duvet. Their legs were tangled together, Liam’s arms holding him from behind and his face pressing into Zayn’s hair.

His warm breath tickled Zayn’s ear. ‘I know. I don’t regret it, though, walking in the wind and snow, because now I’m here with you.’

Zayn smiled up at the ceiling. This was one of the reasons why he didn’t even question the fact that he was in love with Liam. ‘Too much, Payne.’

They drifted into lazy conversation, about things that happened to them that they’d left out during the frequent phone calls and text messages. Liam complained about having to find a new job after his stint at the old bookshop fell through (Liam kept falling asleep and sneezing at the dust) and Zayn grumbled about the painting he still couldn’t get right. Zayn told Liam about the time he got drunk during a Christmas party at his uncle’s party when he’d been sixteen and had got up on the coffee table and sang Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer with dirty lyrics and accompanying hand gestures. Liam laughed at him for a long time.

It was still snowing outside and Liam got up to turn on the fairy lights they’d strung on Zayn’s wall in the shape of a Christmas tree. Zayn laid his head on Liam’s shoulder and watched as the blue, red, and green lights blinked and danced around the room.

Liam started kissing down the curve of Zayn’s neck, his fingers tracing patterns on Zayn’s hips and belly. He sucked a bruise on Zayn’s skin and swept his tongue over it. Zayn hummed, reached back to fist a hand in Liam’s hair, tilting his neck sideways and arching his spine. Liam dragged his hand up to toy with a nipple as the other slipped down and curled around Zayn’s growing erection.

Zayn moaned and pushed back on Liam’s dick. ‘Lee _yum_.’

‘So, babe,’ said Liam, skimming his lips up to nibble on Zayn’s earlobe, ‘listen.’

‘You want to keep talking?’ asked Zayn a little incredulously. He yanked on Liam’s hair and rolled his bum against Liam’s dick, eliciting a raspy _fuck_ from the other boy.

‘Yeah,’ Liam gasped. ‘You see, well, I, I might have accidentally asked your landlord about - oh God, _Zayn_ \- your lease and, and it ends in January, doesn’t it? And I thought, right, that maybe – only if you want to, that is – if you might move in with me after?’

The question came after a particularly delicious, toe-curling tug on his prick and Zayn moaned because what the fuck did Liam just say? Then he got it and Zayn scrambled up and turned around to straddle Liam’s lap. He jerked Liam’s head back by his hair and kissed him deeply, twisting their tongues together. Zayn licked at the other boy’s lips, stared at Liam like he was the best thing in the world (he was) and said fervently, ‘Yes, _yes_ , of course, now fuck me, Liam. I love you.’

Liam’s pupils blew up. ‘I love you too,’ he breathed.

Zayn’s heart did cartwheels in his chest. He licked his lips. ‘Okay, I, okay, wow,’ he laughed breathlessly, happily, and kissed Liam again. ‘I love you. I really do. Please fuck me, Li.’

 

 

 

 

It was a nice day out and Zayn tilted his face up towards the warm sunlight. He wasn’t the only one soaking up the lovely weather or the sight of the very attractive lads playing football. He could hear the group of girls behind him giggling and comparing favourites. 

Zayn brushed a hand through his hair, lying flat on his head for a change, and tracked Liam’s movement on the field. Liam had the ball and was weaving deftly around the other players towards the goal. Another player - Tim, Zayn reckoned as he squinted against the light - came and tackled the ball ungracefully away from Liam’s feet. They stumbled and after a moment, Liam got up and glared at Tim, hands on his hips. Zayn could just imagine the disapproving look on Liam’s face.

‘Liam Payne’s really good, though, isn’t he?’

Zayn’s ears pricked up and his pencil paused in tracing the folds of Liam’s jersey. It was a rough sketch of Liam from earlier, when he’d gone to the bench for a drink of water. His head was tossed back as he took deep gulps, skin gleaming with sweat, his jersey clinging to his back. The image was still vivid in Zayn’s mind and he wanted to recreate it exactly on paper.

‘A good player or damned good looking?’

‘Both.’

‘But he’s got a girlfriend, right? I mean, Lisa tried chatting him up but he just smiled at her all daft like. Either he really _is_ daft or he’s taken.’

‘You’re dead wrong. John’s a mate of Liam’s and he told me Liam has a _boyfriend_ and that they’re pretty solid. I think they’ve been together for more than a year now. The other guy goes to a different university, though.’

‘Seriously? Why are all the good-looking ones gay? And the remaining straight guys end up being massive dicks.’

There was a chorus of snorts and agreements before they jumped to a different topic, this one about the physique of footballers versus rugby players. Zayn was sorely tempted to turn around and tell them exactly who Liam was dating but bit down on his tongue. If they didn’t know, then it would just make Zayn seem creepy and possessive.

He eventually tuned them out, going back to his sketch. A cool breeze ruffled the fine black hair tumbling over Zayn’s brow but he barely noticed. His focus narrowed down to the sketch pad over his lap, the sound of his pencil dragging across the paper. Now and then he looked up to see how Liam was doing, but he was mostly lost in his own head, trying to make the image there a bit more permanent in the real world.

There was a cheer from the scattered crowd watching and Zayn glanced up just in time to see Liam curl the ball sweetly into the far left corner. Liam pumped his fist and was attacked by high-fives and pats on the head by his team. Their boisterous laughter could be heard from even where Zayn was sat. Their coach signalled them over and Liam picked up the ball and led the team to where the coach stood. Liam looked really good, tall and confident, walking across the pitch like he owned it. Just then he didn’t look like the boy who still blushed whenever Zayn indulged in his desire to be obnoxiously affectionate in public (which was all the time). No, this boy was the one who manhandled Zayn and fucked him like they’d just invented the act. Zayn licked his lips. He leant forward, propping his forearms on the top of the seat in front of his. As if sensing his stare, Liam’s head tilted in his direction. The distance was short enough that Zayn could see Andy nudging Liam in the ribs after realising who Liam was staring at.

Finally, practice was done and Liam instantly climbed up to where Zayn was, waving his hand distractedly at his wolf-whistling mates. Zayn closed his sketchbook and set it on top of the bag by his feet just as Liam fell heavily onto the seat beside him.

Liam shoved the hair off his face and grinned. ‘Did you see me? Did you see my goal?’ he asked like a little kid begging for attention.

Zayn laughed and tugged him closer by his sweat-soaked jersey. ‘Yes, Li, it was good. Try to score in your game this Saturday too, yeah?’

‘I’ll try,’ said Liam modestly and pried open Zayn’s lips with his tongue. Zayn could hear the furious whispering from the girls behind them and smiled into the kiss. Liam broke the contact after a minute and took the hand curled in his jersey, threading their fingers together. ‘How was your day?’

‘Good. I found a bakery a few blocks away from school that makes the most delicious pastries. Seriously, I don’t know why I’ve only discovered this now and not, like, three years ago when I was literally living on fast food as a fresher.’

‘Eating dessert is just as bad as a McDonald’s burger, babe.’

Zayn rolled his eyes. ‘Don’t pretend you eat healthy all of the time, Liam. You love a good fry-up just like the rest of us.’

‘Alright, I do, but at least I keep fit.’ Liam poked Zayn in the stomach. ‘You, on the other hand, could do with a jog now and then.’

Eyes narrowed, Zayn squeezed Liam’s fingers tightly until the other boy yelped in pain. ‘Are you calling me fat? ‘Cause if you are then you can sleep on the sofa tonight.’

‘Are you sure about that? Think you can really sleep all alone in bed?’ Liam pulled his hand away. He gave a stretch, jersey clinging to his broad chest at the movement. Zayn huffed in annoyance and reached down to trace a thumb over the bit of exposed skin on Liam’s belly.

‘Never mind,’ he grumbled and made a face at the smug grin Liam gave him.

Liam sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. ‘I should go take a shower. Wanna eat out tonight?’

‘Alright, I want Chinese.’ Zayn brushed the damp fringe from Liam’s forehead. ‘Then we’re having pudding at that bakery.’ 

Liam snorted. ‘Whatever you want, your highness.’ He pecked Zayn on the lips and left for the locker room. Zayn watched him go and then took out his phone and fiddled around with it, knowing it wouldn’t take long for Liam to have his shower. His boyfriend was notoriously efficient in the bathroom, which was a good thing if both of them had early classes, especially since Zayn took twice as long as a normal person to get ready. (Then there were times they showered together and there really was no way of knowing how long they could take then.)

His phone beeped just as he was scrolling through one of his favourite art blogs on Tumblr.

 

From: Danny

_Party at Perrie’s tonight?_

 

To: Danny

_Can’t Liam and I already made plans xx_

 

From: Danny

_You 2 are disgustingly domestic tell loverboy he’s got you wrapped round his perfect finger_

 

To: Danny

_You’re just jealous cause nobody loves you_

From: Danny

_Haha if I liked dick then I’d be jealous. Liam’s fit. How’d your sorry arse ever land someone like him?_

Rolling his eyes, Zayn took a picture of his middle finger raised in blatant contempt and sent it to Danny. The other boy definitely knew how to push his buttons; Danny had spent many nights listening to Zayn either moaning about his insecurities or waxing poetic about the perfect boy he was dating during the early days of Zayn and Liam’s relationship.

Zayn checked the time on his mobile then tucked it away. The sun was slanting across the pitch and Zayn stuffed his sketchbook into his bag. There were still a fair number of people lounging on the seats. This Saturday it would be packed with students watching one of the last matches of the season, with Zayn out in front cheering for his boyfriend even if he really didn’t see the point of football. He caught the eye of a brown-haired girl as he was leaving and she gave Zayn a thumbs-up. Her friends erupted into giggles. Smirking, Zayn went down the steps and into the tunnel that led to the locker rooms. His footsteps echoed in the empty corridor until it was drowned out by the sounds of laughter and shouting. Liam’s teammates were coming towards him, pushing at each other and making a lot of loud noises. Zayn disliked typecasting people because he’d spent most of his life under a label (paki terrorist, queer, drip) but even he couldn’t deny that Liam’s friends were the stereotypical obnoxious jocks. But they were also nice lads who had hardly blinked an eye when Liam first introduced Zayn to them as his boyfriend. They had taken the piss out of Zayn for a long time, though.

‘Hey, here comes Tall, Dark, and Handsome,’ said Andy when he spotted Zayn. He clapped Zayn’s shoulder in friendly greeting.

Tim snickered. ‘Liam’s horoscope did say he’d be swept off his feet by someone that matches your description, Malik.’

‘Oh right, didn’t Liam keep a copy of his horoscope that day he met Zayn? He’s got it pinned on the inside of his locker,’ Greg pointed out with a knowing smirk. ‘That’s some romantic shit.’                                                   

Zayn rolled his eyes. ‘This conversation never gets old,’ he said dryly, even as his cheeks coloured. It wasn’t his fault his boyfriend was a sentimental idiot. ‘And nice tackle there, Tim. I’d appreciate it if you tried to break the other team's legs and not Liam's, though.’

Tim saluted him. ‘Anything else, Coach?’

‘You lot are twats,’ said Zayn. ‘Is Liam still in the locker room?’

Frankie exchanged glances with the other boys. ‘Yeah, he’s, uh, still there. Alone. Well. Basically.’ Andy elbowed him in the ribs.

Zayn nodded, brow lifted in bemusement. ‘Right, I’ll just go see him. Good luck this Saturday, by the way.’ 

He inched around the boys with a small smile.

Tim called out to him, ‘Remember that Liam loves you!’ before they burst into laughter.

Zayn glanced over his shoulder just in time to see Tim being shoved playfully by Frankie. He shook his head and turned right at the next corner. Zayn wondered what that was about. He could hear voices floating from the open doorway at the end of the hall and Zayn cautiously poked his head round to look inside in case there were still others changing in there.

‘Liam?’ he called softly. His smile wilted at what he saw. He immediately strode inside and planted himself next to his boyfriend.

‘Zayn, hey,’ said Liam, looking a little nervous as he ran a hand through his wet wait. ‘Er, I was just talking to Danielle here about, um – ’

Danielle smiled brightly and pushed a strand of curly hair behind one ear. ‘An interview after the match this weekend. I write for _Student Voices_ , as you know, and I thought an article on Liam would be fitting as the season comes to an end.’ She picked up her purse on the bench and touched Liam’s forearm. ‘This Sunday, then? I’ll text you where.’

‘Yeah, sure. Thanks.’ Liam gave her a smile.

Danielle squeezed Liam’s arm and met Zayn’s gaze as she said, ‘Brilliant. It’s a date. Nice seeing you again, Zayn.’

Zayn lowered his eyelids and leant heavily against Liam, his arm slipping round the other boy’s waist. ‘Hmm, I’m sure.’

She smirked and left the room with a wave, closing the door behind her.

Liam coughed. ‘Um, Zayn – ’

His fingers tightened around Liam’s hip and then slammed him back against the nearby wall. Liam made a surprised sound, eyebrows flying up to his hairline. Zayn dropped his bag on the floor and shuffled closer until their chests were touching.

‘So, a date with Danielle, huh,’ said Zayn casually.

Liam rolled his eyes. ‘There’s no need to be jealous, Zayn. It really is only an interview. She just said that to annoy you.’

Zayn knew that but it still didn’t make the hot, prickly feeling in his chest go away. He wasn’t a possessive person by nature but he was always careful with his things, especially when they were special to him. Usually he was calm and rational, maybe even a bit self-deprecating, but Liam just seemed to bring out the best and worst in him. Right now, staring at Liam’s face, all Zayn could think about was _mine mine mine_.

‘I don’t care,’ he said eventually, voice dipping low, ‘because your ex was just in the locker room whilst you were still practically naked – ’

‘I wasn’t!’ Liam protested.

‘ – when she could have waited for you outside. I don’t _like_ it,’ Zayn murmured, slipping his hands under Liam’s shirt and scratching his nails on warm skin, making Liam gasp, ‘that she touched you like she still had a right to. Are you listening to me, Liam?’

‘Yeah,’ said Liam, licking his lips. His eyes were fixed on Zayn’s mouth. ‘Okay. Have I ever told you that you look fucking hot when you’re jealous?’

Zayn’s mouth curved wickedly. ‘Only every time I get jealous.’

‘All the time, then.’ Liam brushed their lips together but Zayn kept the contact light, teasing Liam’s lips with the tip of his tongue. Liam groaned and tried to deepen the kiss, tugging impatiently on Zayn’s shirt.

He pulled back with narrowed eyes. ‘You don’t get to boss me today, Liam. Not after what I walked in on.’

‘We were just talking!’ Liam huffed out.

Zayn really should just shut up, go with the light-hearted banter, but his mouth had other ideas. ‘So do you still think about fucking her, then? Because she’s beautiful and you used to love her and who’s to say you won’t find those feelings again.’

Liam gaped at him before shoving him away. ‘ _No_. Why the hell would you say that? Seriously, Zayn, you’re starting to piss me off.’

But Zayn wasn’t backing down. His own words suddenly made him furious, made him want to rip Liam’s clothes off and leave marks all over him. He didn’t even know why he’d said it but now the image wouldn’t leave his head. Liam looked just as angry, maybe a little hurt, and Zayn was sorry he’d ruined both of their good moods but the blood was still rushing hotly through his veins and he felt suffocated in his own skin.

Liam stepped away from him, lips pulled sharply down at the corners. Zayn growled and yanked him back; crushing their lips together so hard that Liam’s teeth nicked his bottom lip. For a few seconds, Liam struggled against him until Zayn fisted a hand in his damp curls and licked at the roof of his mouth. The other boy groaned and dragged Zayn down onto the bench so Zayn was straddling his lap.

‘Fuck, why are you acting like this?’ Liam snapped as he swiped at the hint of blood on Zayn’s swollen lip with his tongue. ‘I don’t even feel anything for her anymore, or anyone else, for that matter. Just you, okay? Fuck, Zayn.’

‘It’s because I love you,’ Zayn said with a shudder as Liam rolled his hips up. He cupped Liam’s face and kissed him until they were both breathless. ‘You own all of me, Li; it’s only fair that I get all of you in return.’

‘You possessive little monster,’ Liam said, ‘I don’t even know why I put up with you.’

Zayn ground down with a twist of his hips that made Liam swear. ‘Let me remind you.’ He latched his mouth onto the side of Liam’s neck and sucked hard, wanting to leave a spectacular bruise that would be impossible to miss. Fingers scrabbled at his back before sinking into his hair. Zayn rocked their hips together as he continued to rake his teeth on Liam’s neck. His jeans felt rough on his dick. He wanted to feel Liam’s skin against his. He grabbed the hem of Liam’s shirt and pulled it over his head, having to detach his mouth briefly before going back in again, this time on Liam’s collarbone. Zayn dragged his hands over Liam’s chest and arms, fingernails digging in just slightly, before he pushed Liam firmly down onto his back, spread out on the length of the too narrow bench.

‘You good, Li?’ he asked, licking at the sweat at the hollow of Liam’s throat. He tasted unbelievably good and Zayn moaned.

Liam dragged him up for a wet, filthy kiss. ‘I could be better.’

Smirking, Zayn crawled down his body, dropping slick kisses on his chest, and turned around so he was facing Liam’s legs. He quickly undid the other boy’s belt and jeans, pushing them off Liam. Hands cupped his arse and squeezed through the denim, making Zayn moan low in his throat. He pumped Liam’s cock a few times before bending down and sucking on the head. He could feel Liam groaning under him and he slipped his mouth to the side, tracing the thick vein with his tongue before swirling at the thick hair growing round the base. His forearms had Liam’s hips pinned down but he eased off so that Liam could slowly work his dick into Zayn’s mouth. He loved the feeling of Liam’s fat, heavy prick spreading open his mouth until his jaw ached and he was drooling. Liam had a tight grip on Zayn’s waist as he jerked into the wet heat surrounding him, breathless filthy praise falling from his lips.

Zayn flattened his tongue as Liam dragged his cock in and out of his mouth, the head nudging the back of his throat. Liam tasted so fucking good; clean and salty and sweet at the same time. Zayn felt fingers pushing between his bum from outside his jeans and he rolled his hips with a whimper. He barely felt anything but it was the thought of Liam’s fingers seeking entrance to his body that sent a rush of _yeswantsomuch_ through him. He let his teeth graze ever so lightly against the other boy’s cock on the way up and released him with one last kitten-lick.

‘Ah fuck,’ Liam swore, and hauled Zayn down towards him, lying back to front and nearly falling off. Liam turned Zayn’s face sideways for a tongue-fuck that made Zayn twist around so he could fit their mouths better. ‘I want you to ride me,’ Liam said, pushing his hips up and hissing at the scratch of denim.

‘Here? In a public place?’ Zayn pulled an innocent face.

Liam rolled his eyes. ‘You’ve already got me naked and given me a blowjob.’

Zayn suckled another mark on the other side of his throat. ‘Good point. I would hate for my hard work to go to waste.’

‘Will you shut up and fuck me, already?’ said Liam. ‘Before Danielle or anyone else comes back.’

Zayn narrowed his eyes. ‘Oh, you just had to mention her name while your dick’s hard, didn’t you?’

‘It’s all for you, though, baby,’ Liam told him with a sleazy little grin taken directly from Zayn. ‘No one rides my cock like you can.’

Zayn sat up and took off his shirt, preening at the way Liam’s pupils went even wider. He trailed his fingers down Liam’s chest to the creases of his abs, mumbling, ‘You’re so fucking fit,’ and then added with a greedy twist of his lips, ‘and you’re all mine.’

‘Yeah, sure,’ said Liam, drawing circles on the tattoos on Zayn’s arms, ‘right back at you, babe.’

With that, Zayn was done with teasing. He slid off Liam to chuck off his jeans and shoes.

‘You’re not wearing pants,’ Liam whispered behind him; he made another needy noise. ‘Shit, that’s so _hot_.’ Zayn nearly collapsed when he felt Liam’s tongue wriggling in between his crack, and his dick throbbed with every playful swipe against his hole.

‘Liam, oh God, _Liam_ ,’ he gasped, one hand pressed flat against the wall and the other scrambling in his bag for the lube. He could feel Liam’s spit dripping down his thighs and he sucked in a deep breath because _fuck._ He let himself savour the feel of Liam’s tongue driving and wriggling inside his hole until he couldn’t take it any more. He blindly reached back and pushed at Liam’s shoulder, turning around and hovering over him, legs on either side of the bench.

Their lips slid together, and there was a darker, muskier taste in Liam’s mouth that had Zayn scraping his teeth over Liam’s plump lower lip. He unscrewed the cap and poured a generous amount on both his hands. He licked at the roof of Liam’s mouth and muttered, ‘Watch me, Li,’ as he reached back and slowly inserted an index finger into his hole. He was already wet and a little loose, and Zayn bit his lip as he rocked his hips. Liam was panting, mouth slack in awe as he did exactly what Zayn told him; watched as Zayn arched his spine and thrust down on his fingers, two now and turning in circles to open him up even more. Zayn was moaning Liam’s name repeatedly, stretching out the syllables, sometimes losing the vowels on a gasp.

‘You’re so hot, Zayn, look at you,’ Liam said, his voice nothing more than a rumble that made Zayn shudder. ‘God, I could watch you like this forever. Go on, baby, loosen yourself up like that so you’ll slide down on me so easily.’ His lips brushed against Zayn’s unattended cock.

‘Liam,’ he whimpered.

Hands roamed all over Zayn’s body, from his chest to his abs to the sensitive flesh of his inner thighs - everywhere but the throbbing prick desperate for attention. ‘You get jealous over me but you don’t know how mad I get when I see someone flirting with you, trying to steal your attention. Fuck’s sake, Zayn, do you know how fucking beautiful you are? Wait, no, of course you do, you vain little git.’

The words settled heavily in his chest and Zayn really couldn’t think anymore and they weren’t even fucking yet. He touched his prostate one last one time before he pulled his fingers out. Zayn opened his eyes and looked down at Liam, who was staring up at him with dark, dark, dark eyes that mirrored the possessiveness twanging in Zayn’s chest. Without saying a word, Liam laid down on his back. Zayn held Liam’s cock in one hand as he sank down on it, eyes fluttering closed at the delicious sensation. Liam was in so deep that it hurt a little, but Zayn relished the burn as he lifted up and lowered back down. Sweat trickled into his eyes but he didn’t care, not wanting to look away from the pleasure twisting Liam’s face. His breath hitched when Liam thrust up as he went down, nailing his prostate again and again. He slumped forward and cried out when Liam went even deeper. He braced his elbows on Liam’s flushed chest and pushed his tongue into Liam’s mouth. Their lips kept slipping until they were just gasping desperately into each other’s mouths.

Zayn pressed his forehead against Liam’s. ‘God, Li, you’re so big, so good. Harder, please – yeah, right there - _fuck_ – ’

Liam’s eyes burned as he stared at him.  ‘Feel good, Zayn?’  

‘Fucking fantastic,’ he moaned in reply. Zayn’s cock was trapped between their slick bellies and every forceful shove was like a fist working him over. Liam grinned and slowed down his pace, moving his hips in a way that had his dick scraping everywhere inside of Zayn on every inward thrust home.

Zayn’s teeth clamped down on Liam’s bottom lip as he whined; Liam was fucking into him deeply, slowly, and he swore he could feel the grinding friction in the back of his throat, at the tips of his fingers. His slick fingernails were drawing lines down Liam’s chest, his other hand buried in thick wet curls, and there was no doubt that they’d both be sore and bruised and marked up tomorrow. Zayn’s gut clenched at the image in his head. He was going to have to draw them, paint them, photograph every single scratch and bite as evidence that they were both so far gone for each other no one could ever come close. 

‘I can’t, Liam - please, make me come,’ Zayn pleaded with a shake of his head, loose hair feathering across Liam’s cheeks. He arched against the other boy. ‘Too slow – I need – ’

Liam growled. He snapped his hips up, shoving into Zayn so hard that the bench gave a loud rattle. What little air was left in Zayn’s lungs was knocked out of him and he panted desperately, clenching around Liam and crying at how fucking good it felt.

‘Fuck, _Zayn_ \- I’m going to – oh fuck, _fuck_ , I love you, _I love you_ ,’ Liam gasped underneath him, eyes shut tight, bottom lip caught painfully between his teeth.

Zayn nodded wildly and sucked at the sweat on Liam’s throat. ‘Yeah, yeah, come for me, Liam, come inside me.’

Liam tipped Zayn’s face up and kissed him hard, hips jerking once, twice, before he was coming. It was suddenly so hot and wet inside of him and Zayn muffled his scream against Liam’s tongue as his cock pulsed between them a few seconds later. He was lost in his high, slurring out a steady stream of _I love you_ into the corner of Liam’s mouth. Zayn slumped down on top of Liam, still trying to regain his breath as the euphoria ebbed away, leaving behind a raw and drugged out sort of feeling deep in his bones.

Liam’s chest rumbled under his ear. ‘Alright,’ he said breathlessly, ‘I forgive you for being a jealous twat.’

Zayn snorted and cuddled closer. ‘When did I apologise?’

‘Somewhere between you blowing me and fucking my brains out.’ Liam carded his fingers through Zayn’s sweaty hair and chuckled. Zayn felt it all the way inside him where Liam was still nestled between his arsecheeks. ‘Babe, we definitely need a shower or everyone will know we just had sex.’

Zayn dropped a kiss on Liam’s left nipple. ‘I think they know by now. Doesn’t the tunnel carry loud sounds very well?’

‘God, you’re right. We should get out of here before the cleaning crew comes and finds us.’ Liam slowly sat up with Zayn still in his arms and they both groaned.

Zayn gasped and wriggled his bum experimentally. ‘How the fuck are you still half hard?’

‘Maybe you just keep me in a state of perpetual desire, Zayn.’

He gave his boyfriend an unimpressed look. ‘Really, Liam? Really?’

Liam just grinned and urged Zayn to wrap his legs round his waist. ‘Hold on to me, yeah? Don’t want you making a mess everywhere.’

Zayn scrunched up his face but then shrieked when Liam got up a little shakily and his prick nudged at Zayn's sweet spot. ‘Christ, that’s tender.’

‘Not doing it on purpose,’ said Liam, sounding somewhat strained.

He sighed as Liam walked them towards one of the shower stalls. ‘My boyfriend’s so strong,’ he cooed with a giggle, petting Liam’s broad shoulders.

Liam smiled and kissed his cheek. He pushed Zayn against the wall and twisted the knob until the water was streaming down over them. Zayn tilted his head and caught Liam’s lips.

‘So when you said we had to leave quickly,’ said Zayn, licking at Liam’s teeth, ‘you meant after round two, right?’

Liam made an exasperated sound. ‘You’re unbelievable.’

‘No, you’re just so damn irresistible, Li.’ Zayn smirked and gave a tight swivel of his hips. He was sore but in a good way. Liam bucked up into him, almost fully hard again, and Zayn bit his lower lip. A really, _really_ good way.

 

 

 

 

The house was suffocating and Zayn went out on the front porch for a smoke. He tapped the bottom of the pack against his palm and picked out the fag with his lips. The lighter gave a soft snick to bring out the flame and Zayn brought it up to his face, palm cupped round to protect it from the light spray carried by the warm breeze. It was a wet day in the heart of summer and Zayn watched as the raindrops bounced off the concrete path. He placed his smokes and lighter on the space beside him and leant back on his hands, legs stretched wide until his trainers were nearly touching the curtain of rain that fell from the roof. 

Liam’s neighbourhood was the same as his back in Bradford: two rows of nearly identical houses kept apart by long wooden walls. The occasional car was parked on the street. The front gardens were neat and tidy, the gutter overflowing with rainwater.

The humidity was making his carefully styled hair sag, not to mention the frequent, nervous tugging he’d done to it earlier. Not that it mattered anymore.

Zayn tipped his head back when the door opened and Nicola sat down next to him. There wasn’t much space and Zayn scooted sideways. She flicked him a tight smile.

Nicola had Liam’s eyes, that same dark brown colour, but lacked Liam’s openness and warmth. She tucked a strand of her short blond hair behind an ear.

‘Liam’s half-convinced you’re going to smoke your way to an early grave, you know,’ she said, eyeing the glowing tip of the fag, ‘but he also finds it sexy when you do light up.’

Zayn smirked round his cigarette. ‘Yeah, I’ve got his speech memorised by heart now.’

Nicola nodded and placed her hands over her knees. She looked out to the empty street. The silence wasn’t tense, exactly, Zayn thought, but he’d definitely welcome a few more words.

‘Danielle lives at the end of the street,’ Nicola said suddenly and Zayn choked on a sharp inhale of smoke. Nicola laughed. ‘Sorry,’ except she didn’t sound sorry; just amused, ‘should have found a better segue. But you know Danielle, don’t you?’

Zayn muttered, ‘We’ve met.’ He wondered which of the houses they’d passed earlier was hers, and if they would have found a house here if Liam hadn’t broken up with her. Mrs Payne would probably drop by bringing tubs of food as an excuse to pester them about grandchildren.

‘We used to think he and Dani were it, you know? High school relationships never last but when you looked at them together, you couldn’t help but believe they’d make it.’

Zayn plucked the fag from his mouth and blew out smoke. ‘Is this supposed to reassure me?’ asked Zayn. ‘Because it’s really not.’

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Nicola grin. ‘You have to let me get to the end, Zayn. Liam’s right: you are an impatient little cunt.’

‘I highly doubt Liam put it exactly in those words,’ said Zayn in a dry tone.

‘Too polite for his own good, that boy,’ Nicola murmured softly, ‘which was why he got so much shit growing up.’

He looked at her. This time, her eyes were exactly like Liam’s whenever he talked about a part of his childhood in the vaguest terms. Zayn never pressed because he knew all too well what it was like. (It had been the bottle of wine’s fault on their one year anniversary that they’d told each other the details, and had spent the rest of the night being weepy as they whispered promises and apologies for things that weren’t their fault.)

Zayn tapped the cigarette with his index finger, loosening the ash. ‘What about Danielle, then? I’m waiting for the good part.’

Nicola let out a breath. ‘Hm. All I’m saying is that I knew he loved Dani, but it’s nothing compared to how he looks at you, like you’re his whole world, and you look at him the same way. It’s rather revolting, the two of you, to be honest.’

‘I already know Liam loves me,’ said Zayn after a bit of silence, ‘but your parents definitely don’t. They were nicer when I first met them in London. Er, no offence.’

‘They’re just being daft right now,’ said Nicola, ‘but they’ll come round, trust me. They weren’t too keen on Ruth’s boyfriend the first time she brought him home. Especially Mum. Liam’s her baby, and she’s still shaken up by the fact that her little boy takes it up the arse.’

Zayn gave a startled laugh. ‘Yeah, that’s probably it. My abu nearly disinherited me but Mum slapped it out of him.’

Nicola shook her head. ‘Do you have any straight cousins who look like you?’

Zayn smirked. ‘Loads. Remind me to introduce you to the smoothest eleven year old you’ll ever meet.’

‘Sounds charming.’ She stood up and tried to ruffle his hair, but Zayn ducked away with a scowl. ‘You’re alright, Zayn, but like, if you hurt my little brother, I’ll gut you.’

Zayn smiled. ‘I’d rather die than hurt Liam.’

She rolled her eyes and pulled open the door. ‘Disgusting!’ she called over her shoulder.

 

 

The room was very Liam and Zayn took comfort in that fact. He stretched out on his back, socked feet braced against the headboard. The wall where the bed was pushed against was covered in posters of bands, Disney films (no princesses, though), and various cut-out magazine articles and pictures. There was a string of fairy lights that went round the room.

It was neat and tidy now, but Zayn could imagine it being a bit messier, with clothes on the floor and books and CDs spread haphazardly on any available surface. Music would have poured from the speakers of the laptop as Liam revised, or perhaps he’d have used headphones. Liam would have gotten distracted when one of his favourite songs came on and he’d stop to tap the beat on the table and croon along in his smooth voice. It was a lovely to imagine, but just as likely Liam would have been on bed, muffling his sobs as the cruel words echoed in his head, or curled up in a ball wincing at the bruises on his arms.

Zayn closed his eyes and drew his legs in, burrowing his face into Liam’s pillow. It smelt of fabric softener.

He woke up to Liam lying beside him, his head pillowed on Liam’s chest. Zayn must have slept for a few hours because it was already dusk outside the window. The rain was still pouring.

‘Good kip?’ asked Liam softly, fingers following the sleep-creases on Zayn’s cheeks.

‘Hmm, cause you’re here,’ said Zayn, shuffling closer. He was still somewhat tired, and Liam was not helping by being so warm and cuddly.

Liam smiled. ‘If I’d napped as long as you did I wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight. You, on the other hand, will sleep as if you haven’t rested for days.’

‘Nothing much to do anyway. We can’t actually shag in your room, what with your Toy Story duvet and all,’ Zayn pointed out. ‘Rex’s face is exactly where my naked arse would be at.’

‘I reckon Mum got these out for that reason.’ The amusement faded from Liam’s face and his mouth pulled down at the corners. Zayn made a distressed sound and climbed on top of him, twisting their legs together and smoothing his hands through Liam’s hair.

‘Don’t look like that, Li,’ he mumbled, kissing Liam on the lips briefly. ‘You know I hate it.’

Liam stared up at him, eyes sad. ‘I’m sorry about Mum and Dad, Zayn. They were horrible to you.’

‘I wouldn’t say horrible.’

‘Yes, they were. They called you my “gay university fling” right to your face, Zayn. I mean, _God._ ’ Liam rubbed his eyes in frustration.

‘That one did hurt,’ he confessed softly.

The other boy looked like he was on the verge of tears. ‘I’m sorry. They know how much I love you, okay, and they shouldn’t have said any of those stupid, stupid things. I’m sorry, babe, I’m so sorry.’

Zayn stopped another apology with his teeth digging into Liam’s bottom lip. ‘Don’t. It’s not your fault your parents disapprove of me.’ A tear slipped out from the corner of Liam’s eye and he brushed it away. ‘I know it hurts that they don’t understand but they will eventually. They love you too much, Liam.’

‘They ought to love you too,’ Liam countered petulantly, sticking his bottom lip out, ‘because you make me so happy.’

Zayn laughed, fondness squeezing his throat tightly. ‘Give them time, babe. Soon I’ll have them eating out of my hands. Look at how you won my Dad over with your footy fanaticism. Meanwhile _I’ll_ have to woo your father with my knowledge on art history. Or maybe he likes poetry?’

Sniffing a bit, Liam drew Zayn down for a long, lazy kiss. They didn’t make it more than just the soft grazing of lips and flicking hint of tongues. ‘I expected you to be a bit angrier than this, actually,’ Liam said with a nip at Zayn’s mouth.

‘I was,’ said Zayn, ‘but I had a rather nice chat with Nicola while you were in the kitchen scolding your parents. Remind me to introduce her to Ramil.’

‘He’ll sweep her off her feet. The kid’s got your good looks and twice your charm. Ramil’s going to break a lot of hearts. Female hearts. Your family’s got both sides covered, huh?’

‘I never broke any hearts.’

‘You sort of broke mine, babe.’

Zayn was offended. ‘I did not!’

The light was back in Liam’s eyes and he gave a wide grin, his hand stroking down the curve of Zayn’s back. ‘Yes, you did, a few minutes ago when you said you wouldn’t have sex with me.’

Zayn rolled his eyes and pinched Liam’s cheek until he protested in pain. ‘Are you really willing to get caught by your mum with your hand down my trousers?’

‘Just like in secondary school,’ Liam said, and then grunted when Zayn ducked his head and bit down mercilessly on Liam’s neck. ‘Oh right, as if you never fooled around in your bedroom.’

Zayn scrunched his face. ‘Whatever.’ He paused and looked down at Liam thoughtfully. ‘Do you still have your old uniform?’ he asked.

‘Yeah, okay, no,’ Liam said, colour blooming on his cheeks, ‘we’re not going there, Zayn.’

Zayn grinned wickedly. ‘I bet you looked hot as fuck in your tie and blazer. You probably wore them properly, too, and always had your shirt tucked in.’

Liam licked his lips. ‘I bet _your_ tie was messy and the shirt tails peeked from under your jumper. And you cut class to smoke behind the gym.’

‘Pretty much,’ Zayn murmured. He tucked his head under Liam’s chin. ‘Started getting my tattoos then, too.’

Liam gave a disappointed sigh. ‘I can’t wait to go home.’

Zayn hid his smile against Liam’s throat and listened to the heartbeat under his ear, a steady counterpoint to the rain lashing the windows. Liam toyed with one of Zayn’s earrings and Zayn let out a quiet breath, along with the tension and frustration of the day. He meant what he’d said, though; Zayn was going to show Liam’s family that he could make Liam happy for the rest of his life, even if he did have a dick.

As if reading Zayn’s mind, Liam nudged him at the waist and whispered, ‘You know I think you’re perfect, yeah? Like, they’re wrong that I’ll get tired of being with a bloke and start to miss women, because I don’t, and I won’t. Mum’s so convinced I’ll need to get married to be happy or whatever, like guys can’t do that now. You know I’d marry you in a heartbeat, right?’

Zayn’s breath caught in his throat. ‘Liam Payne, are you proposing?’

Warm fingers rubbed at his hip. ‘No. Not now. I mean, if and when I do, it’ll definitely be more romantic than this, I promise. With flowers and a ring and me on my knees and everything.’

‘I like the "on my knees" part.’ Zayn slid off of Liam and huddled into his side, dragging the other boy’s arm over his waist. They stared at each other in the growing darkness of the bedroom, and the glow in the dark stars tacked onto the ceiling began to light up faintly. ‘Just so you know, I’d definitely say yes.’

‘Of course you would,’ Liam mumbled with a small smile.  

They brought their lips together and Zayn was nearly overwhelmed by how much he loved Liam at that moment. He tilted his chin up a bit to get deeper. Liam sighed when Zayn curled their tongues together. The kiss was more emotional than sexual, and Liam stroked Zayn’s cheekbone with his thumb.

‘Liam, dinner’s ready!’ Ruth shouted from downstairs. ‘Stop making out with Zayn and come down before Mum barges in there! Nicola’s barely holding on to her!’

Liam smiled ruefully against Zayn’s lips. ‘I suppose we better do as she says.’

Zayn groaned and took one last kiss to psych himself up. ‘Just dinner, then pudding. I can do small talk. I’ll wow your parents with how bloody good I am at small talk.’

Liam chuckled and kissed his forehead. ‘Art history and poetry, babe, don’t forget. When we get home tomorrow, I’ll let you tie me up and fuck me. Would you like that?’

Zayn whined low in his throat. ‘Liam, stop putting dirty images in my head when we’re about to have a hopefully less disastrous dinner with your family!’

 

 

 

 

 

 

Zayn’s mobile began to ring, the familiar croon of The Lion King’s _Can You Feel the Love Tonight_ making his cheeks flush when he heard the old lady snickering behind him as he fumbled to answer the call. 

‘Liam,’ he hissed into the phone, shoulders hunching up in embarrassment. ‘How many times have I told you to stop messing with my ringtones?’

‘Never mind that,’ came Liam’s harried voice, ‘I have a real emergency here!’

Zayn sighed. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘I can’t find my bloody tie! You know, the lucky red one with the gold stripes – ’

‘That makes you look like a stupid Gryffindor,’ Zayn couldn’t help pointing out. He took a sip of his coffee. He could hear the sounds of drawers being opened and shut carelessly. ‘I swear if you leave a mess you’re going to have to do the washing up for an entire week.’

‘Like you ever do your chores,’ retorted Liam before he made a frustrated sound. ‘ _Zayn_ , I can’t find it and I’m going to be late. I need that bleeding tie!’

Zayn shuffled his feet and glanced at his watch. ‘Calm down, Li. Deep breaths, yeah, and go check your suitcase, the one you used when we went to your sister’s wedding last week.’

‘Oh, right, I brought it with me, didn’t I? So Oliver doesn’t change his mind and leave Ruth at the altar or something.’

Zayn chuckled. ‘Hmmmm.’

‘Where are you, anyway?’

A smile curled Zayn’s lips as he rocked back and forth on his heels. ‘The bus stop.’

There was a pause before Liam said, his voice warm and affectionate, ‘ _Our_ bus stop, you mean? Well, do you need me to come over and help you carry your books? Or maybe yell at inconsiderate corporate types for knocking over scrawny tortured artists?’                            

‘You suck at role playing,’ Zayn deadpanned. ‘And I was never a tortured artist. I’m not a cliché.’

‘You kind of were, babe, before I came along and made you happy.’

Zayn blinked up at the sky, grinning widely. ‘Wow, Li.’

‘Oh shut up.’ Zayn heard him unzipping something. ‘Found it. You were right; it was just in my suitcase. Cheers.’

‘I am so relieved you found your Gryffindor tie,’ said Zayn dryly. He saw the bus rounding the corner and everyone in the queue shifted impatiently. Zayn blew a cold, misty breath over his coffee before taking another drink. ‘Bus is here. What time does your meeting end?’

‘Around 3, I reckon. Let’s meet after, if you’re done at the gallery by then. Maybe we could even recreate our first date. You know: coffee, a walk in the park, and then a shy kiss on my doorstep at the end of the night.’

Zayn snorted and climbed into the bus, sticking is phone between his ear and shoulder so he could swipe his travel card. He grabbed the mobile and switched to the other ear. ‘You’re such an idiot.’

‘Break my heart, why don’t you?’

He sat down next to a bored-looking teenager listening to music. ‘Don’t you have filthy rich would-be investors to impress?’

Liam swore and muttered a quick _bye_ _love you_ before hanging up. Zayn shook his head fondly and looked out the window, trying to ignore the sullen kid practically curled up in a ball beside him. Zayn could faintly hear a voice screaming about love fucking up everything in the world from the kid’s giant headphones. He wanted to turn to the kid and tell him that love was pretty brilliant, actually, as long as you found the right person – but he didn’t because that would be creepy as fuck.

The bus rolled down the street and Zayn watched the shops go by with a faint smile. It wasn’t often that Zayn came by this street anymore. Sometimes he was struck by how long ago it was that he’d met Liam here, the brown-haired boy with the eyes and smile that had prompted Zayn to ask the most important question of his life (so far).

It was autumn in London and it was still Zayn’s favourite time of the year, especially since he got to snuggle with his boyfriend on the sofa whilst they watched Eastenders and drank cup after cup of tea.

Zayn pressed the little green envelope on his phone screen and typed in a short message, smiling at the memories.

 

To: Liam

_Fancy a coffee? Meet me at the bus stop. 4 pm. I want to get to know you again xx_

 

From: Liam

_YOU DORK but ok. I do too :)_

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is to writers what ambrosia is to the gods. So, you know. :)


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